


two times two always equates to one

by orphan_account



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Coming of Age, F/F, Isolationism, Love Triangles, Nakia-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22959709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “'One day', Ororo murmurs; she’s turned to face her, one leg on either side of the log. Nakia looks up at her, and Ororo leans in again, softly grabbing the back of her head and pulling her close. Nakia swallows the saliva gathering in her mouth, licks her lips, and focuses on the feel of her warm hands sliding down her neck, her shoulders, her waist. 'One day, you will be at peace with yourself.' She scoots closer, closes her eyes, and presses her lips to Nakia’s neck, drawing a soft sigh from her. 'And when that day comes.' She opens her eyes, blinks softly, and kisses the damp skin beneath her lips. 'I will be there.'”. . .From birth, it seems, Nakia has been indecisive of who she needs to be. For Ororo, for her people, for the world.But maybe that's just life. Maybe it's all just one long, winding journey throughout the caverns of her soul.
Relationships: Ororo Munroe/Nakia (Black Panther)
Kudos: 2





	two times two always equates to one

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so first off, I wrote a love triangle. I don't know how the fuck that happened, but it happened. Spoiler alert, the final leg of the triangle is T'Challa, but I'm not gonna tag it 'til he appears.  
> Second, the blurb from the summary comes from waaaaaay later in the story. This is a coming of age fic, so it's gonna take a minute for Nakia and Ororo to get to that point.  
> Third: I'm not finished writing this, so it's gonna be a while before updates get started.  
> I've also tried to do some research to make this as culturally-accurate/respectful as possible, but if I've messed something up, be sure to let me know, and I'd be happy to go back and fix it.  
> Okay! Let's get into the story!

The first time she sees her, she’s six years old, playing in the overgrown wheatfields growing up the side of Mount Bashenga.

She’s wandered too far, and she can hear her mother calling for her. Despite the note of urgency, she sounds more exasperated than concerned. Nakia would return to her, would surrender herself back over to her responsibilities.

But she’s already too far gone in her exploration. She figures a few minutes more wouldn’t hurt.

Shimmying up onto a boulder three times her size, Nakia pants and wipes the back of her hand over her forehead. She takes a moment to just bask in the sight of the crashing waterfalls beneath her. A flock of sunbirds flies towards her, chirping and spiralling about one another before diving through the curtain of the waterfall. Nakia giggles. She rises to her feet, steps back a few paces, and then runs and jumps off the boulder, falling into a deep pool of water that welcomes just as amicably as the wheatfields do.

She stays beneath the water a moment; there are bubbles surrounding her, evidence of some creature or another inhabiting the plunge pool. Nakia smiles, pushing herself along; she comes upon a peculiar piece of rock jutting from the bottom of the pool. It looks bleached, like it’s been stripped of all its color. She shrugs, propels her arms down, kicks her feet, and, soon enough, finds her head back above water. Her mother’s still calling for her, her exasperation crossing over to annoyance. Nakia hums and is about to start towards shore when she spots a figure standing on a mound of rocks just a few yards away from her.

There’s a mist enveloping the figure, but it parts ever so slightly, revealing a girl about her own age standing atop the rocks. Her hair is silver and brilliant like the moon, tightly coiled curls blowing ever so slightly in the wind blowing off the water. Her eyes are much the same, a piercing, blinding white that yields only when she blinks. 

After quite a bit of staring, the light dims, and the stiff set of her shoulders loosens. She takes a step forward and, cautiously, slides into the water with Nakia, the mist clinging to her as she draws closer.

It’s against everything in Nakia’s entire being not to shout out, to cry for help, to warn her mother. But there’s something about this girl. Something eerie, yet calm, that makes Nakia hesitate.

The girl swims closer, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Around them, the water begins to push and pull, soft, gentle, tender. Nakia clenches and unclenches her fists under the water, thinking of the boxing lessons she’s been taking and making note of the easiest exit from the waterfalls.

In the end, Nakia lifts a hand from the water and extends it. The girl stares at it for a second, then grabs hold and gives it a firm squeeze. 

“My name’s Nakia”, she says, and the girl nods, the gentle push and pull of the water coming to a still.

“I’m Ororo.”

Ororo. Nakia mouths the letters, imagines twisting and turning them around her tongue, and smiles. The girl, Ororo, looks surprised. After a moment of hesitation, she smiles, too.

“I’m not supposed to be here”, she says, awkwardly, like she’s revealing some sort of secret. Nakia doesn’t think too much of it. She just nods because she’d expected as much; she knows practically everyone from her Tribe, and she’s never seen her before. Moreso, she’s never seen anyone with hair or eyes like hers before. Her mother, ever the worrywart, would tell her to be wary of this, would remind her of what happened to those who trusted people from beyond Wakanda’s borders.

Nakia just barely refrains from frowning, instead choosing to smile because Ororo’s begun to look quite comfortable and she doesn’t want to scare her off. “I’m not supposed to be here either”, she admits, folding her hands in front of her. “Umama is-”   
“Nakia! Nakia, baby, where are you?!”

Nakia winces, turning to where her mother’s voice had come from. “By the falls, mother!” She turns back to face Ororo, but by the time she has, the girl has already gone. “What-”

“Nakia!” There’s the sound of legs thrashing through water, and then there are arms, wrapped around her, pulling her back to shore. “By Bast, don’t you ever do that again!” 

Nakia frowns but allows herself to be carried. “But mother, I was talking to…” She trails off as she’s set on the ground and begins the trek back to their home. 

“Who?”, Enku sighs, pausing to look down at her like she has neither the patience nor the energy to deal with this. “Who were you talking to, Nakia?” She pushes open the door to their house, slipping free of her slippers and calling out to her husband as she closes the door behind her.

Nakia does the same, absentmindedly petting Entoto as he runs to greet her.

“Nakia”, her mother repeats, her name coming out sharp and jagged. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one”, she answers; her shoulders sloop as she drags her fingers through Entoto’s fur, but she looks up, smiles, and wills herself to say, “I found a snake and-”   
Her mother sighs. She shrugs off her shawl, hands it up on a hook, and bends down so that she’s at eye level with Nakia. She watches her for a moment, staring like she’s something some sort of complex puzzle. Then, a faint, weary smile blossoming upon her face, she pulls Nakia into a hug and just holds her. “Usana”, she murmurs into her ear. “You know you shouldn’t play with snakes.”

Nakia nods and tucks her face into the crook of her shoulder. She thinks of the girl and how...ashamed she’d seemed at admitting that she wasn’t supposed to be there. But more than that, she thinks of her eyes and her smile and just how sad she is that she’ll likely never see her again.

_ Ororo. Her name was Ororo.  _ Nakia tosses her arms over her mother’s shoulders, closes her eyes, and says, “Yes, mama”.

. . .

There’s a storm later that night. 

Nakia’s curled underneath her blankets, watching as lightning bleeds through her window and splatters against the walls of her room. Somewhere amidst the crackling and the roaring, she hears the sound of something tapping. She doesn’t move at first, far too stricken by the intensity of the storm to truly care for it. But the longer she ignores it, the louder the tapping grows, almost frantic in its frequency.

Nakia lifts up her blankets and cranes her neck towards the window. And there, on the other end of the screen, is Ororo.

Nakia scrambles out of bed and to the window, breathing heavily and beaming widely as she stares at the uncertain girl opposite her. “Ororo!”, she whispers. “Oh, I was afraid I’d never see you again!”

Ororo blinks at her, staring back for but a moment before a shy, somewhat sheepish smile graces her face. “I’m sorry for running off before.”

Nakia just shakes her head. “It’s no problem. You did say you weren’t supposed to be here.”

Some of the tension in Ororo’s shoulders fades. As if she desires to be closer, she leans in further against the window, eyes darting about the dim quarters of Nakia’s room. “Yes. My family...they don't like me to wander.”

At that, Nakia giggles because, Bast, if she can’t relate. She drops her elbows onto the sill of her window, her head propped up by her knuckles, and just watches Ororo.  _ It’s not polite to stare _ , a voice that sounds far too much like her mother reminds her. But Nakia can’t help it. She’s just so happy to see her again.

Nakia opens her mouth to say something, only to yelp and leap away when a sudden crack of thunder rumbles the foundations of their house. Ororo’s eyes go wide, watching as Nakia flinches and takes a step back, away from the window and away from her.

“You needn’t fear the storm”, Ororo says. Before Nakia can say anything in response, Ororo lifts her hands, revealing small charges of electricity pulsing within the palms of her hands. When Nakia looks back up, she finds Ororo’s eyes have gone pure white again. And though the storm is raging with more fury than ever, Nakia finds she’s never been quite so calm.

Ororo reaches out, the charges within her palm dimming as she presses the hand against Nakia’s cheek and says, her voice rich with sincerity, “I’d never let it hurt you.”

Nakia presses into her touch. She blinks, and, just like that, Ororo’s gone again.

But somehow, this time, Nakia doesn’t feel alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Umama means "my mother", and usana means "baby".  
> Thanks for reading! I've had this in my drafts for a few months now, and I'm so excited to finally be posting it! Let me know what you think!


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